


traveling suns

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Closeted Character, M/M, Mandalorian Culture, Pirates, Slavery, Trade with a Friend, Two Dumbass Himbos, Two Shot, consensual drug use, mostly - Freeform, smugglers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: corso couldn't understand why he's been acting like this recently. he was normally an upbeat guy- why was he so angry that kun'rele was getting close with some girl?
Relationships: Corso Riggs & Male Smuggler, Corso Riggs/Male Smuggler, Corso Riggs/Smuggler
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my part of a trade between me and my friend moth!!! 
> 
> i'm writing this two shot of their dumbass boys in swtor, and they're drawing art of my two dumbasses in return!! their side is looking so good so far too 🥺
> 
> now i only know what i know about these characters from watching the beginning of their playthrough, and they wanted me to take artistic liberities with corso's character anyway(since they don't like how he's written lmaoo) so i've done some things to corso's character as well as his past. 
> 
> some background info about kun'rele: he is a dark blue dumbass himbo twi'lek 🥰
> 
> enjoy moth!!

The sound of Corso’s own footsteps is the only noise in his room, aside from the conditioning entering through the vent. He is pacing back and forth, arms crossed tightly over his chest, unable to stop himself from fretting over his recently reoccurring mood swings. They only ever seemed to happen when he was on missions with Kun’rele, and he had no idea what to make of this. He's never felt himself to be the negative type of person, striving to stay optimistic and keep a rosy outlook on life, yet he's been snappy and short with Kun’rele when out on missions with him and he wasn’t figure out why. 

Well, that was until he’d taken notice of the pattern just after their last mission. 

In fact, their last mission had been just him and his captain once more venturing to Nar Shadaa. Corso has an idea why they return frequently to the city moon- because their contacts can disappear into the already drug laced crowds- but that doesn't mean he likes it. Nar Shadaa always holds a suffocating air to him- whether it be because of the pollution coated atmosphere or the multiple slave Twi’leks trying to get him to pay their services, he never enjoyed it. But he would follow Kun’rele to anywhere in the galaxy, and that included the Sith cursed moon. 

So, of course, when Kun’rele told him that their next mission was on Nar Shadaa, he wasn't beyond enthused about it. Not that he would let the captain know, of course. He always wanted to appear happy and content around his captain, not wanting to worry him with any unhappiness or disloyalty he could possibly be harboring with these more negative thoughts and feelings. He would never betray or leave Kun’rele, of course, but the Twi’lek captain didn't know this himself. He owed everything to Kun’rele- from the place he now calls home to the fact he actually feels as though he has a family with him and the rest of the crew. 

When they arrived on Nar Shadaa, they weaved easily through the crowds. Corso had no idea where they were going this time- he only hoped they weren't dealing with any of the slugs- but he followed closely to Kun’rele, not wanting to lose his captain amongst the drug hazed alien crowds. 

“So what are the details?” he asks Kun’rele as they turn a corner, into a casino. Female Twi’leks of all colors danced on the edges, enticingly waving towards the two smugglers as they passed by. Corso did his best to ignore them. Their gazes seemed to burn him and make his skin itch. He's never appreciated Twi’lek- or any- dancers, and he didn't know why. 

“Some guy called Bane supposedly has a good deal for us,” Kun’rele replied, pointing to a rather large creature in the far corner. “We’re just here to settle the details of it. You're my backup in case things get rowdy.” 

“As they almost always do,” Corso said teasingly, knocking their shoulders together good naturedly. Kun’rele chuckles at him, a grin spreading across his face, and Corso can't help but stare. Kun’rele had a great smile- it took up his entire face, scrunching the corners of his eyes, and he even had a twin pair of dimples. 

“We’ll just see how it goes for now,” Kun'rele said, and they came to a stop in front of a large, humanoid figure. Though, it very obviously was anything but a human. Corso hasn't ever seen an alien like this one, either. It stands at least four heads taller than both him and Kun’rele on its long two legs, and it has a pair of bulbous orange eyes on top of its head. Its mouth is at the end of a long snout, filled with sharp teeth. It would be horrific if Corso wasn't used to seeing other species like this. It would be rude to think it horrific without talking to it first, too. Very speciest. 

It turns its huge eyes on them, a translator droid beside it. Oh, great. Corso hates translator droids. They were always so over dramatic and annoying. This one is a dusty shade of silver, its metal skin cracked in places. A pair Gamorean guards stands on either side of the creature behind the large creature. 

“You must be Count Bane,” Kun’rele said in greeting to the hulking alien, and Corso almost sighs. Of course the unidentifiable alien species is their contact. The alien raises its head in greeting as well, and Corso only now takes in how well dressed it is. Long robes of ivory silk in shades of red with black pants, and a navy shirt. “I am Captain Kun’rele. I'm sure Risha told you about me.”

Count Bane nods, and speaks, the language a guttural sound not dissimilar to that of the Transdoshians. The droid begins its job, “Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you. Your Risha told me much about you and your capabilities.” 

“Yes, well, she didn't really tell us much of what our deal is this time,” Kun'rele said, crossing his arms over his chest. Croso shakes his head. She never really debriefed them of side missions like this. He likes to think it's because she finds their confusion utterly amusing. “Are you willing to strike up some kind of deal with us, for you to provide us deathsticks and other spices, and for us to deliver  
them to customers?” 

“Yes,” the droid translates as Count Bane resumes speaking, his large hands moving with the sounds he makes. He's a hand talker, huh. “Though, before we can settle on a deal, I need to know I can trust you with the most precious of cargo.” 

Kun’rele blinks and exchanges a look with Coroso, who shrugs amiably. This wasn't his call. “Well, yes, of course, Count. What must we do to earn your trust?” the captain asked next, keeping his “customer service” tone intact. It's the voice he used when speaking to possible bosses or partners. All nice and non threatening. Made him look innocent, too. Which was laughable, since Corso knew his captain was anything but innocent. 

Count Bane raises one of his hands, and beckons towards a door. This door opens, and Corso tenses, ready for an ambush, only for a beautiful, lime green Twi’lek woman to step out. She is tall and lithe, her lekkus covered in stripes a darker shade of green, her eyes a bright blue. She is dressed in a hard set of armor that pronounces her features rather nicely, if Corso cared for that sort of thing. But he didn't, so he took in the notice to detailing on the armor’s chest plate instead. It had some kind of family crest carved into its center, lines sharp and ragged. She comes to stand beside Count Bane, a small smile on her face. 

“Your job is to transport my daughter to Tatooine, where more of my family is waiting to receive her,” the droid said, and Corso returns his gaze to the large alien. Though, before he had, he didn't miss the way the girl’s eyes had been looking Kun’rele up and down, almost like he were a juicy piece of meat in the market. He can't stop himself from grimacing at the thought. He'd have to keep his eye on her. “Her name is Lady La’sere, and she is to be treated with utmost respect on your journey.” 

Kun’rele almost seems to be at a loss for words, looking from Lady La’sere to Count Bane and back again. “Not to be rude, but she is your daughter?” he asked, and Corso nearly facepalms. Sure, he was still speaking with a repsectful tone, but that sort of question was stupid nowadays. Families were made up of all kinds of species now with interspecies marriage and adoption being made legal in both Imperial and Republic territories. 

But Count Bane only seems to find it amusing, as he makes some sort of growling noise that Corso could believe to be laughter. He places one of his large hands on Lady La’sere’s shoulders, nearly enveloping it. She was much smaller than he was. “Yes, I adopted her and all of her siblings,” the droid translates coolly. “But that does not mean I do not see her any less of a my child than if she were of my own blood. But do you agree to these terms set in place?” 

“So you want me to give her passage to Tatooine?” Kun’rele mused, cupping his chin in his hand. “How do I know she won't attack me or my crew?”

“I don't bite, Captain,” Lady Las’ere assured, her tone a tad too flirtatious. Corso sets a glare on her, his hands clenching at his sides. How dare she speak to his captain like that… “I am a very tame girl.” Her voice was light and sing songy, buttery smooth. 

Corso leans in towards his captain. “I don't know, this seems kind of fishy,” he muttered into Kun’rele’s ear. The Twi’lek hums in response, rubbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

“How much supply and credits will you be giving us once we settle in on our deal?” he asks the Count. 

“Enough supply to give you forty percent of the cut,” the droid answered for them, and Corso’s eyes widened. That was a good deal. Most of the time, they only ever received at the most twenty five percent of the deals they run. He knew now they wouldn't be able to turn down this offer. 

“Sign me up then!” Kun’rele said with a laugh, clapping his hands together. “We can head off as soon as her Lady is ready.” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, offering an arm out to her. Corso rolls his eyes at the gesture, nearly vomiting. His captain really could get caught up in his theatrics sometimes. He just wished he wouldn't act so… so… like that, with her! 

Count Bane said something to Lady Las’ere, to which the young woman nodded, before she looked to Kun’rele, smiling warmly at him. She accepted his offered arm, locking themselves at the elbow. “Then lead the way to your ship,” she said lowly, keeping their gazes locked. 

Corso was nearly fuming as he followed his captain and the Lady back to their ship, almost losing them multiple times in the crowd. Normally, Kun’rele waits up for him, walking side by side with him. Then, however, he seemed to have completely forgotten about his right hand man. His heart aches at the thought of being replaced so easily, dragging his feet up the ship’s ramp with his head hanging. 

Kun’rele showed the Lady around the ship, and even offered to show her how to fly it, leaving Corso to retreat to his room, where he is facing his current predicament now. 

He could simply convince himself he was merely scared of the thought of being replace by the Lady, of being kicked off the ship and leave it at that. But deep down, he knew it was more than that. What with the way his skin itches every time they look at each other, or the way he wants to rip his eyes out whenever Kun’rele smiles at her with his large and warm and beautiful smile that he normally reserved for Corso. 

He was jealous of Lady Las’ere. Jealous of how close she was getting to be with Kun’rele- his captain. It drives Corso insane knowing that Kun’rele is spending the time he normally spared Corso to the Lady instead. And Corso knew- he knew it was only because she was technically their “cargo”, their job for this mission. But he still couldn't help the way he wanted to drag the Lady all the way to the airlock, leave her in it, and open it with her in, allowing her to float endlessly through space. 

It was honestly frightening. He never thought of anyone like this. Well, unless theyd hurt Kun’rele. But the Lady hasn't even had a chance to hurt his captain and he already feels such animosity towards her. An animosity he is familiar with feeling towards the dance girls, or the women trying to hook up with his captain for the night. 

It always made his blood boil when they tried to get with his captain. 

But why? 

He needed someone’s outside opinion. 

So, he was going to try and sneak his way below deck so he could speak to Risha, but he was spotted halfway there. Kun’rele and Lady Las’ere are sitting at the table in the main area, playing Sabacc or some other card game. His captain takes instant notice of him, head perking up at his movement. 

“Ah, Corso!” he exclaimed, speaking to him for the first time since they'd brought the Lady on board. The Lady who was currently sitting much too close to his captain, almost entirely on his lap. He hurts his teeth at the sight, wanting to tear her from his side right then and there. But that wouldn't be good for their agreement, so he bites his tongue and forces a smile on his face. “We were just about to begin another round of Solus. Would you like to join us?”

And because he can't ever say no to his captain, Corso smiles wider and nods. Kun’rele grins back and motions for him to join them at the table, which he begrudgingly does. He sits on the other side, opposite of Lady Las’ere. 

“Your captain here was just bragging about you,” Lady Las’ere said suddenly, surprising Corso with the fact she was speaking to him. She hadn't seemed interested in him at all. “Do you really know three separate languages?”

He nods again, suddenly unable to speak any of those three languages. Kun’rele laughs, counting the cards as he deals them out. “Don't mind him, he gets shy around new people sometimes,” he said accommodatingly, winking at the disgruntled smuggler. This only shakes Corso further to the core, his cheeks heating a tad more. “You should have seen him when he first met me.”

“Oh, I would have loved to,” Lady Las’ere says with a light chuckle, gracefully grabbing her hand of cards. How was she this damn graceful with everything she does? He couldn't figure it out. “You are a sight for any to behold you after all, Captain.” She was still flirting with him, too. Corso grumbles and slams his hand on his deck, putting them up in front of his face. 

“B’ cin vhetin naast gar,” Corso said, drawing both Twi’lek’s attentions back to him. He smirks at their confused expressions, and repeats himself in Basic, “‘I will destroy you.’ Mando’a.”

“Impressive,” Lady Las’ere all but purred. “Were you a Mandalorian’s foundling, to have learned that? Because most non Mandalorians never have the means of learning Mando'a otherwise.” 

“I was at one point, yeah,” Corso replied tightly, trying to not let his memories of his buir flood him right now. Now was not the time. “But that was a long time ago.”

“You must be fun to watch in combat,” Lady Las’ere observed, playing the first card. It was a cancellation of Corso’s turn. The smuggler glare at her, and she smirks in return. “Whoever was your caretaker must have taught you everything they knew.”

“That he did,” Corso responded, watchinf Kun’rele play his own card- a reverse. Corso smiles and sets down a cancellation card now, quirking an eyebrow towards the Twi'lek. Lady Las’ere doesn't loose her composure, merely leans further into Kun’rele. “I could show you a few of the tricks and moves if you'd like.” 

Lady Las’ere hums dismissively, and waits until it is her turn to play a plus five. Corso sniffs as he gathers up his five new cards, sifting through them mindlessly. Kun’rele is watching and listening to their conversation, not adding to it but not stopping it either. Which is surprising, espeically since he hadn't known Corso was a Mandalorian’s foundling. And when he learns something new, he is normally all over that new thing, asking a hundred questions a second. Instead, he remains quiet and plays his own card, a reverse. Corso smiles gratefully to his captain and plays his own add five for Lady Las’ere to enjoy. 

“I'd rather not tussle. I could break a nail,” she finally responded, looking Corso up and down for the first time. He leans back in his seat, returning the favor. They lock eyes as it comes back to Corso’s turn, and he plays a cancellation of Las’ere’s turn. She grimaces at him, finally breaking her smooth expression. He smirks in triumph. 

“I'm sure your nails would be fine,” Corso snipped back. 

“What are the other languages you know?” she asked, suddenly changing the subject completely. 

“Beeogola Nachaska,” he said, tossing his next card onto the pile. Luckily for Las’ere, it is a simple eight card. She relaxes slightly, raising an eyebrow at him to tell her the language he just spoke to her. “Huttese. The last one I know is Frog.”

“Frog,” Las’ere said incredulously. Kun'rele bursts out with laughter again at that point, throwing his last card down, which both Las’ere and Corso hadn't even realized to be his last card. 

“I win!” he exclaimed, grinning madly at both of them. “You two were so busy talking, you didn't even notice I didn't call Solus!” He laughs for a while longer, and Corso drops his hand, Lady Las’ere smiling sheepishly up at him. 

“You little sneak!” Corso snapped, but couldn't stop himself from bursting out with laughter as well. “I should have known you were sneaking as soon as you got quiet.” 

“Well, you didn't, Corso, so I win!” Kun’rele continues to gloat, thumping himself on the chest, which causes Lady Las’ere to push away from him, clearly uncomfortable after being continuously jarred by his movements. 

His celebration, however, doesn't last long, as multiple alarms blare to life at the same time just before the ship jolts out of hyperspace. Kun’rele falls over from the force of this, Corso nearly hitting his head on the table’s corner. Lady Las’ere hits the wall, her eyes widening. “What's happening?”

“We've been forced out of hyperspace!” Kun’rele shouted, hopping to his feet just as Corso pushed from his seat. They both run to the cockpit, Lady Las’ere right on their heels. Kun’rele lands in the pilot’s seat and Corso looks over the cameras, finding a much larger, more heavily weaponized ship looming directly over them. “We're caught in their tractor beam- Corso man the guns! Lady Las’ere, buckle up. This is gonna be rough.” 

Corso rushes from the cockpit, sliding down the halls and leaping into the gun’s control. He powers them on, preparing to fire, only for electricity to spark from it and the guns to power down. He curses and runs back to the cockpit. “They took the guns out,” he tells Kun’rele, pulling his pistol- Torchy- from its holster. Kun’rele curses even more curses than Corso had, and tosses a pistol to Lady Las’ere. 

“They've disabled controls, too,” he told Corso, and pushes back to his feet. “I hope you know how to use that, my Lady, because things are about to get messy.”

Lady Las’ere takes hold of the pistol, taking a deep breath. Corso doesn't stay to watch, however, heading back to the main area with Kun’rele right behind him. They hear the ship docking theirs, just as Risha makes it up, eyes questioning, but understanding, as she holds up her own weapon of choice. Lady Las’ere moves to be beside Kun’rele, and the door bursts open with blaster bolts and fire. 

Corso and the others get straight into action, returning fire as pirates rush onboard. He takes one, two and three out. He presses his back to the container he was currently using as cover as one of the pirates locks onto him, preparing to fire. Once the pirate’s gun needs to cool down, he shoots at him, hitting his square in the chest, killing him instantly. But only more pirates flood onboard, and Corso knows they will soon be overwhelmed. Someone has to do something, or they'd all be killed. 

And Corso knows he can't let Kun’rele or Risha die. Not his family. 

He forms a plan. A stupid, horrible plan, that he knows Kun’rele will kill him for doing later, but a plan nonetheless. He draws a deep breath through his nose, steels himself, and then launches from his place behind the container. 

As soon as he does this, he can hear Kun’rele shouting his name, but he doesn't, suddenly possessed by something. Some form of ride or die adrenaline, pushing him forward. He weaves through the blaster bolts, and directly towards the pirates gathered at the entrance to the ship, and shoots all three of them. But, even then, he doesn't stop, continuing through the docking bridge and into the enemy ship. 

The stupid, horrible plan, that he knows Kun’rele will kill him for doing later, is going head first into the pirate’s ship, killing as many of them as he can, and hopefully not die in the process. As he runs through the enemy’s ship, he hardly is even able to take in anything around him, only finding targets in the faces of the pirates that line the halls. He shoots them as soon as he gets near any of them, and doesn't let any of them stop him. He can't let them get anywhere near Kun’rele or Risha now. 

At this point, he knows the pirates are starting to close in on him. And yet, despite this, he doesn't stop firing his gun. He thinks he starts screaming at some point, but his hearing has decided to leave along with his sight. The only thing he can hear is his own erratic heartbeat, thumping wildly against his ribcage like a frightened and wounded bird. 

His throat does get raw at one point, so he assumes in the back of his mind that he had, in fact been screaming. And yet, oddly enough, he is completely calm in his mind. Well, unless you count the fact he felt he was going to die any second. But he was okay with that, if it meant that Kun’rele and Risha could live and thrive. He knew he wanted to keep them safe to his last and final breath. So, this was the perfect way for him to go. Screaming and shooting to keep two of the most important people in his life safe. 

His wild state doesn't last much longer, however. As something hits the side of his head with a huge THUMP!, sending him to the ground. Torchy flies from his hands, and he desperately reaches for it, only for a foot to slam down on the top of his hand. He can feel his throat tear as he lets out another scream, watching as one of the damned pirates plucks up his most trusted pistol. 

“Well, aren't you a wild one,” someone sneered above him, their voice an ugly hiss growl. Corso blinks rapidly, trying to wiggle his fingers on the hand currently being crushed, only for the pirate to grind his foot further into the top of his hand. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes, teeth grinding together painfully. “What are we going to do with you? You've killed a great number of my men, after all.” 

“We should kill him,” another voice hissed, and a face appears in front of Corso’s. An ugly, twisted face, covered in horrendous scars and a twisted snarl. This man’s eyes are void of any emotion except for malice as he glares down at Corso, lips a disgusted grimace. “But slowly and painfully, to return the favor.”

“Maybe.” the original voice hummed, and the foot on his hand adds even more pressure. He ends up whimpering pathetically, not even able to scream at this point. His throat was too raw- and he was pretty sure he could taste blood in the back of his mouth. “But where is the fun in that? Especially since we weren't able to get the supply from their ship.” 

“Maybe we could use him as a hostage,” another voice suggested darkly, and someone kicks him in the side. The owner of that voice crouches in front of Corso, revealing yet another ugly face twisted by pure hatred. To be fair, they did have a right to hate him. He had just run through their ship killing a shit ton of their crewmate. But, to be fair again, they'd deserved it. “Say we can trade him in return for their supply.”

“And then kill him,” the second voice added persistently. He chuckles darkly. “Maybe we could even torture him while waiting for that bucket of a ship to return our holocall. Else this will have been all for nothing.”

“I do like the sound of that,” the original voice- whom Corso is assuming to be the captain of the ship, since the others seemed to be respecting his thoughts and not outright killing him yet- said with a thoughtful hum. The pressure on his hand is suddenly gone, and he's being ripped from the floor by the back of his shirt. He's turned roughly to face the owner of the voice that had been grinding the bones in his hand for good five minutes, surprised to find it belonged to a handsome looking man. The other two pirates had been ugly, but the captain was anything but. His skin was smooth and tanned, cheeks slanted with a pair of perfect cheekbones. His face is framed by locks of purely black hair, and his eyes are a bright green. A rat bird is perched on his shoulder, its feathers a mixture of golds and blues, its eyes a dark red. Corso would have laughed at the ridiculousness of this pirate’s appearance under any other circumstances- he looked exactly like the perfect personification of the pirate’s stereotype. But, as it was, his hand was broken, his throat was torn, and his side hurt. He wasn't currently in the laughing mood. “What do you think of those suggestions, scum?”

“Ortisir,” Corso managed past his abused vocal cords, not even realizing he'd slipped back into Mando’a until the pirate’s face was twisting in confusion. Once again, he would be laughing if the situation was any other. But he might as well just go along with his slight and ridiculous blunder of mistranslation. “Cuy ogir’olar.” 

“What the hell is he saying?” the second pirate demanded, his ugly face still that stupid and ugly sneer. Corso doesn't switch back to Basic, and doesn't offer them any help. Hey, if he couldn't continue assaulting them physically, he might as well do so with a language barrier. Whatever made their lives even more of a living hell was music to his own ears. Even if they did end up killing him, at least it would be worth it at this point. 

“He doesn't even speak Basic!” the third pirate complained, closer to Corso and the captain than the smuggler would have liked. Oh. And there's Torchy. This pirate has Torchy holstered on his belt, haphazardly, and Corso almost cries at the misuse of his poor, poor weapon. He wants to berate the pirate for the misuse. And, in fact, he decides he will. 

“Di’kut,” he says, forcing his vocal cords to continue working, even if his voice is weaker and smaller than he would have liked it to be. “Bic besbe’trayce staabi.” 

“Okay, he's starting to get annoying now,” the second pirate complained, his voice starting to annoy Corso. 

Oh, and, oh no. His adrenaline is starting to finally wear out. He can feel it draining from his body, leaving him to sag and for his various wounds to remind him of their existence. His eyes widen as he feels the full brunt of his hand’s pain, and he chokes on the blood in the back of his throat, feet kicking unconsciously in a futile effort to try and relieve the pain riddling his entire person. 

“Oh, look at how he squirms,” the captain drawls, and Corso doesn't like the way he is looking at him. The captain’s eyes look Corso up and down, appraising, before his grip on his shirt tightens, and he seems to make up his mind. “We will keep this smuggler, and contact the others. We will use him as a hostage, and to ‘trade’ for the supplies we know they have. But, we will not truly give him up, as I am sure you are all aware. No, I've decided we’re going to keep him.” 

The other two pirates in the room laugh at that, and Corso can feel dread gathering in his stomach, feeling the captain’s eyes staring at him hungrily. “You really see something in him you like?” one of them asks, but Corso doesn't even care which one, because he can't look away from those dark green eyes. 

“Oh yes. Now prepare the medbay, I don't want him dying on me,” the captain ordered, just as Corso’s grip on the waking world begins to slip between his fingers. He struggles to keep his eyes open, only for the captain to chuckle at his efforts. “Look at you, trying so hard. Let’s see how long that lasts.” 

And with that, the captain slams his head into the wall, effectively knocking Corso unconscious. The last thing Corso can think, before his world is consumed by darkness, is that he at least kept his captain safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YUUUHHH ITS FINISHED AND MOTHS PART IS LOOKING GOOD AH

The world comes back to Corso in flashes of lights and colors, his eyes burning and stinging as he slowly peeks them open. He is leaning against the back of a chair, his arms held tightly behind his back by what he assumes to be cuffs on his wrists. He tests the waters and the metal’s strength by tugging at them slightly, instantly regretting his decision when his hand protests painfully, and he nearly screams again if his voice had been working. He finally opens his eyes fully, finding himself in an unfamiliar medbay with a male Togruta standing nearby, his lekkus a dark green while his skin a light blue. His lekkus and montrals are marked by long, flowing stripes of white. He is using a syringe to squeeze some kind of liquid into a tube that is currently connected to Corso’s unbroken hand. The Togruta takes notice of his consciousness a second later, turning deep green eyes on his tired face.

“Ah, you’ve awoken,” the Torgruta said, his voice deep and accented with an outer world twang. Probably Tatooine or Nar Shadaa. Then, he seems to remember something and clears his throat, coming to stand in front of Corso, speaking slower, “Su cuy’gar, ner gai cuyir Redshan. Ni Kelir hiibir baatir be gar.”

Ah. Corso had almost forgotten he hadn’t spoken Basic to the pirates, so now they must be trying to compensate with this Togruta. And, the Togruta- Redshan- was surprisingly fluent with Mando’a. He must be a fellow Foundling, then. Corso notes that in the back of his exhausted mind, and he blinks slowly at him. “I know Basic,” he stated, and Redshan hums. His caretaker on this ship sets the syringe aside and moves to lift his shirt up, looking the dark bruise there critically. “What was in that syringe?”

“Mild pain relievers,” Redshan replied offhandedly, grabbing a fres bacta patch from a nearby tabletop and opening it. He gently presses at the bruise, causing Corso to hiss between his teeth, before applying the patch, the cool strip instantly relieving some of the pain there. “You are in no critical damage. The only thing I’m really worried about is your hand. Though, if treated properly, it will return to its normal shape.”

Corso doesn’t even want to know how badly misshapen his hand must be at the moment. He sighs heavily through his nose, and starts when a cup of water is offered to him. He opens his lips and allows Redshan to help him drink; the Togruta angles it forwards, letting cool water spill into his mouth. He drinks it gratefully, and then focuses on the problem he is currently facing: he has been kidnapped by pirates, and he has no idea what they want from him.

Redshan must sense what he is thinking, because he chuckles as he sets the cup of water aside, taking a seat nearby to face the smuggler as he speaks, “Don’t worry, Captain Cilloway won’t kill you.”

“Only torture me just before death instead, right?” Corso asked, his eyes achingfor him to close him, his head begging for him to tilt it back and sleep. His whole body is pleading him for sleep, but he wants to know the kind of situation he is in before he allows himself to be unconscious with the enemy again- it would be foolish to do otherwise. “To use me as some sick entertainment?”

The Togruta hums thoughtfully. “Only if you misbehave,” he replied without a thought, studying his nails as though they had all of the answers in the galaxy. He didn’t deny what Corso said. The thought makes his gut turn. “For now, you will be treated as my patient, until you are healed to functioning capability. Then, the captain will choose what to do with you. But I wouldn’t worry, you are his type.”

Corso’s mouth dries at Redshan’s careless explanation, and he looks over the Togruta again for the second time. Only now does he take notice of the collar around the blue skinned neck, and does he fully understand. Redshan wasn’t here voluntarily or because he wanted to be; he was the pirates’ slave. His skin crawls at the thought- he hated slave owners.. He saw so many when he still lived back on his farm, and he always hated to. People should not belong to other people like they were objects and not living and breathing. But he also knew that as long as horrible people existed, so to would slavery. That’s why he respected Kun’rele without a doubt- he knew Kun’rele would never take on a slave, nor would he believe himself higher than someone else. He was a good man, and Corso aches to see his smile again.

“That doesn’t really reassure me,” he said despondently. He sighs heavily, leaning back in the chair until it was digging into his shoulder blades. “Do you know why captured me, other than being ‘his type’?” He hoped to any being that he wouldn’t be forced to wear one of those collars. They made his skin itch. The years he had been forced to wear one- before his Buir had found him- had been long and cruel and torturous. He never wanted to wear one again.

“Your crewmates have something the captain wants,” Redshan replies, looking up to Corso, and the smuggler could see pity shining in his dark eyes. His hands are clasped between his legs now as he leans forward, lowering his voice, “But that doesn’t matter, because you’re stuck here now. Do as the captain wants, and you won’t be hurt any further.”

“Well, that’s not really an easy thing for me to do,” Corso said with a slight grin, and the Togruta sighs heavily, shaking his head sadly. 

“Good luck to you then, dralsh’ya ad’ik. Atiniir,” Redshan said softly, encouragingly. Coroso smiles in return, grateful for the words. Then, the Togruta grabs another syringe, injecting something into Corso’s leg. “Now return to sleep. It will delay the inevitable.”

Coros finally allows himself to return to unconsciousness, not looking forward to whatever is to come next.

He awakens again to Redshan crouched in front of him, checking his wounds again, his hands light and deft. There is someone talking behind the Togruta, a familiar voice- the captain’s- an impatient tone in his voice. Corso keeps his eyes shut, keeping his breathing even to listen to their conversation.

“It’s already been six days since we acquired him,” the captain snaps, his heavy footsteps pacing both ways in front of the medbay’s entrance, clearly annoyed. “Have you gotten his name? Where his crewmates could have gone? Can he speak Basic? And how much longer until I can use him again myself?”

“He is still weak and damaged,” Redshan replies calmly, and Corso has to stop himself from groaning when he is injected with yet another liquid. He can hear the heart rate monitor kick up a sound, however, and he is afraid that his cover is blown. Then, there is shifting as the Togruta peels the bandages from his side, rubbing some kind of cool gel into his bruised skin in its place. “He has only woken up briefly, and he was hardly cognitive. It may be a few days longer until he is fully conscious again.”

The sound of electricity, followed by something burning fills the room, and Corso feels sickto his stomach to realize the captain had used the collar on Redshan. The Togruta gasps audibly, falling to his knees as Cilloway steps further into the room. “Well hurry and wake him up. You know I don’t like to wait, Redshan,” the captain spat. “And put the collar on him already. We don’t want him acting up as soon as he wakes up.”

There are more footsteps, followed by the door sliding closed, and then Corso is alone with Redshan, who is still breathing heavily. The smuggler peels his eyes open once more, forcing himself to sit up and look towards the Togruta, meeting his eyes. The collar is still sizzling quietly, and Redshan’s eyes are filled with pain. “You knew I was awake,” Corso stated, not asking it as a question. The Togruta nods slowly, rubbing a hand on the front of his neck. “So why didn’t you say anything?”

“As I said, you are not fully healed,” Redshan replied, his voice still calm, only a bit of strain giving away his pain. “As such, I don't want the captain having you, yet.”

Corso can hear the unsaid words of protection. Redshan was clearly protective of Corso, his patient, even at the cost of his own health and pain. “Thank you,” he says, giving him a nod of respect. “I appreciate.”

“Anything for my patient,” Redshan said without a care, though Corso could tell he truly did care. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have acted like Corso was still asleep. His green eyes drift to the side, and he looks uncomfortable, nearly pained at whatever he was looking at. Corso doesn’t like that expression, and so he follows the Togruta’s gaze, nearly vomiting when he sees the object of the Togruta’s apprehension. A collar is sitting on a nearby table, and Corso already knows who it is meant for. Redshan lowers his head apologetically. “I am sorry, but I must put it on you.”

“I know,” Corso said with a heavy sigh. Well, it would appear he would have to wear one again after so long. He;d never wanted to, but the situation isn’t really helping his desires in the slightest. “Go ahead. I don’t want you taking the blame for me not wearing it.”

Redshan bows his head in thanks, and grabs the collar, moving to stand behind Corso as he powers it on. Corso stiffens at the sound of the electricity kicking to life, tightly clenching his undamaged hand into a fist as to not punch the Togruta in the face. This wasn’t his fault, and he was already in pain. He didn’t need to add to it. 

He just hopes Kun’rele won’t see him in such a pathetic state. He never wants his captain to see him so low, so weak, so vulnerable. In fact, he never even wanted Kun’rele to know fully of his past. Sure, Kun’rele knew he’d lived on a farm, which was the beginning of the truth, but he’d never really gone beyond that, never going into the story of how he’d been captured by slavers, his family killed, before he’d been rescued and taken in by his buir, a Mandalorian. His buir had offered to raise him in the way of the Mando’ade, but he’d turned it down. He’d taken some of the lessons- like the language, and some fighting skills as well as piloting- but he hadn’t wanted to be a Mandalorian himself. And his buir had understood him, continuing to raise her as her own even though he didn’t want to be the exact same as her.

If Kun’rele saw Corso wearing a damned collar, then he might as well know he’d been a slave at one point, too. And Corso didn’t want that. He didn’t want his captain looking down on him like he was his lesser, even though in the back of his mind, Corso knew he would never think that way of him. It was an irrational fear that Corso couldn’t really control.

The collar snaps around his neck, and he flinches, screwing his eyes shut tightly as it hums, locking. It makes his skin crawl and itch, and it feels heavy around his neck. “Ni cuy' Ni ceta,” Redshan said apologetically, but Corso shakes his head. It isn’t the Togruta’s fault. “You should return to sleep. The captain is not going to be patient any longer.”

Corso nods, and allows Redshan to sedate him once more, leaning his head bac against the chair’s rest. The metal necks into the back of his head, but he hardly even notices it, the collar on his neck too tight and heavy for him to care. He just hopes to see Kun’rele again, even if he was a lowly slave again, even if he didn’t deserve to see his captain again. 

A hand grabbing his face jars him instantly from his slumber, and he gasps, fingertips digging into both of his cheeks. His eyes snap open and he is once more met with the face of the pirate captain leering at him, his dark eyes looking him up and down. Being held up like this causes his side to hurt- though, it was doing much, much better- and he grimaces, nearly forgetting about the collar on his neck.

But then he remembers. And he lowers his gaze, also remembering the respect any possible master deserved. His former slave “manners” return to him full force, almost like they were instincts, and he stays still, to make sure he does not anger the man holding his leash. 

Cilloway grins widely at seeing him awake, releasing his face to let him fall back into the chair again. Corso’s eyes dart around the room as soon as he is freed, finding Redshan standing near the door, his head bowed as the pirate captain circles around his chair, as though studying him. “You’re awake, just as I knew you’d be if I woke you,” he said pleasantly, placing a hand on his shoulder and causing him to jump slightly. “Redshan was just telling me that you do know Basic- how wonderful for us and our relationship. So tell me, my friend, in Basic, where would your friends be most likely headed?”

Corso grimaces as the hand tightens slightly around his shoulder, and his salver’s instincts rage against those of the smuggling and Mando’a Foundling he’s built up through the years. He doesn’t want the pain of being shocked or beaten, but he especially doesn’t want them to find Kun’rele or Risha. So, he swallows heavily and lifts his head, forcing his eyes to meet the pirate’s even as his brain screams at him to look away.

“Hell if I know,” Corso said eventually, squaring his jaw as the captain holds his gaze. He keeps his voice steady, hoping to show the pirate that he’s not affected by what has happened, by the collar around his neck and the power difference currently between them. But instead, all he can see is amusement in Cilloway’s eyes as he grins sharply down at him. “Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.”

Cilloway circles back in front of him, before he crouches in front of him, his eyes even darker than before. “Oh, my new friend, that is not the way to start our relationship,” the captain sang, and then pain is burning through Corso’s neck, causing him to shout in pain as he is electrocuted. Once the pain has subsided, and Corso is left panting, Cilloway pats one of his cheeks with his hand. “Okay, let’s try another question: are you into men?”

The question is so sudden it leaves Corso reeling for a good minute as his pain-addled mind attempts to catch up with everything else. He blinks rapidly, eyebrows scrunching in confusion as he meets the captain’s gaze again. “Wh-what?”

The captain chuckles and bounces on the balls of his feet, raising his own brows. “Do you like men, smuggler?” he repeats, and Corso swallows heavily, hardly able to believe the absurdity of this interrogation, if one could even call it that. “Do you date them, fuck them, so on and so forth?”

And honestly, Corso hasn’t ever really given his sexual preference much thought. His early life had been too busy, and he’d never really thought of it. Sure, women were obviously pretty. How could anyone deny that fact? And men were also attractive, with their more rugged features and typically thicker bodies. And even those who have no gender were clearly good looking- with their mysterious aura that held them above those that kept to assigned gender. 

So how was Corso supposed to know who he liked? They all seemed attractive to him- well, everyone but this damned pirate captain smirking in front of him and any other horrible slaving creature out there. 

He did know for a fact, however, that if he had to pick anyone while being held to gunpoint, to say who he was most attracted to- both physically and emotionally- it would be Kun’rele. The thought hits him like a train, and nearly all of his previously confusing mood swings made much more sense now. He… liked Kun’rele, and was crushing hard on his captain.

And a goddamned pirate holding him hostage made him realize this fact. Gods, how stupid could Corso be?

He just hopes he’ll have another chance to see him again. Properly this time, and tell him how he truly feels. He wasn’t sure if that would happen at this rate.

“You could say so,” Corso eventually replied coolly, having fully thought it over. The captain grins wider, as if he’d just won a particularly interesting prize, before he finishes, “Though, I do not particularly like you.” He can hear Redshan snort nearby.

Cilloway’s grin drops to a scowl and Corso is once more electrocuted, with an even higher voltage than before. He clenches teeth together painfully, ready to spit on the captain just as alarms blare to life loudly. The captain straightens to his feet instantly, storming towards the exit to the room, the pain finally ending for Corso as he orders the Togruta, “Keep an eye on him while I deal with this.”

Corso draws in a deep breath through his nose as the door to the medbay slams shut, and he is once again left alone with Redshan, who instantly makes his way over to the smuggler. “He doesn’t take rejection well, now does he,” Corso said with a crooked grin, to which Redshan shakes his head in amazement.

“You are an idiot,” Redshan said in reply, tilting his head back to get a better look at his neck, where his skin was still burning and stinging like a bitch. “But I do appreciate your humor, nonetheless.”

“Well, I’ll try not to piss him off again,” Corso replied, wetting his lips to keep himself from hissing in pain as Redshan sprays something on his neck. His skin instantly cools and calms, and he needs some of that spray with him all the time. 

“That would probably be for the best,” Redshan said with a slight smirk, moving to look at something on a nearby computer. His eyes widen at what he must be seeing as he turns back around to face Corso, his smirk now a smile. “Though you may not need to worry about it much longer.”

Corso’s eyebrows scrunch together once more at the statement, and he tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean…?”

The next second the door bursts open, and a familiar lime green Twi’lek rushes in. His eyes widen when he realizes it is Lady Las’ere, a pistol held up in her hand, with a splatter of blood marking her face. Her eyes dart around the room before they land on Corso, and she hurries to him, and it is only then Corso spots the other person with her. The sight of him takes his breath and worries both away.

Kun’rele.

But, his feelings of relief and happiness are quickly followed by feelings of humiliation and shame. So, Kun’rele is seeing him at his lowest point. He is about to go into his own self loathing, when he sees Lady Las’ere raise her weapon at Redshan, whose eyes widen. Corso’s back goes rigid and he quickly shouts, “Wait! Don't shoot him!”

Both Lady Las’ere and Kun’rele start at his voice, almost like they'd forgotten he was there, before his captain runs to him, quickly and carefully breaking the cuffs from his wrists. Lady Las’ere hesitantly listens to his desperate shout, lowering her weapon as Kun’rele helps Corso stand. Corso nearly faints at being so close to his captain- he is literally leaning most of his weight against the taller Twi’lek. He keeps his broken hand close to his chest, and Kun’rele easily sees that it is damaged and keeps to jarring it too much. 

“Thank the stars you're alright, Corso,” Kun’rele said, squeezing the hand that is wrapped around his waist, which is keeping him on his feet. He knew of Kun’rele were to move away from him, he'd fall instantly to the ground, much ungracefully. “I was so… so scared they'd killed you.” 

“Who's he?” Lady Las’ere breaks in, before Corso could respond to his captain, and he only now fully takes in her appearance. She is standing tall, like she was born to fight in the armor she was wearing, and had a hard steel in her eyes. She holds a pistol in one hand and a viroblade in the other, and looks ready to kill if the need arises. So, obviously, her little “woe is me” personality from before was an act. 

“He… he's a friend,” Corso replied with only a bit of difficulty. He was finding it easier to breathe so close to Kun’rele, and nods to Redshan. “Can he come with us, Captain? He's their slave, he doesn't want to be here.” Redshan’s eyes widen, but he stays silent, looking hopefully to the Twi’lek. 

Kun’rele only ponders it for a moment before saying, “Yes of course. Anyone who is a friend of yours is also mine. Now let's get you home. We’ll get those damned things off you once we do.” 

Home. Corso nearly sags in relief, but forces himself to stay straight and move his own two feet. Redshan follows the trio as they exit the medbay, only a tad hesitant. 

Kun’rele tosses a gun to Redshan as they continue through the halls, and the Togruta stays close to Lady Las’ere. Any pirates who get near them are instantly shot by one or both of the two aliens, and any who get past them are blasted by Kun’rele. Corso takes notice of the fire lighting his captain’s eyes- an almost determined anger in them. He's never seen his captain like this before; never seen him angry, much less pissed off. His hand is still holding him tightly where it rests, keeping him pressed close to the Twi’lek. 

It doesn't take long for them to reach the airlock, where Risha is guarding the way into their ship. As soon as she sees them coming, along with Corso, she visibly sighs, relief on her face. He smirks, knowing he’d worried her so much. “Glad to see you missed me,” he teased as they approached her, and she rolls her eyes. 

“Oh please. You owe me credits still. I was worried I wasn't gonna get them back,” she snipped back, but she was smiling and he could tell she was happy to see him. 

They go to enter the ship, only for the door to the airlock to slam shut in front of them. Corso cranes his neck to look over his shoulder, heart thumping painfully to see Captain Cilloway flanked by pirates on either side of him striding towards them. The pirates have their weapons held up, and the opposite door seals shur behind them as well. Cilloway looks beyond pleased with himself, as his people outnumbers theirs. 

“So you finally came, I see,” Cilloway said, and his pirates surround them. Corso shifts to be closer to Kun’rele, afraid that the pirate captain was somehow going to easily snatch him up and away from the Twi’lek. Like he was directly in front of them and not on the other side of the room. His collar itches minutely, and he wants to rip it off before it can be used again “I was wondering if you'd decided to leave me this lovely toy.” 

Kun’rele’s grip tightens further against Corso’s side, as though hearing someone refer to the human like this greatly upset him. The thought makes Corso’s heart ache. 

“I would never leave Corso, or any of my crew, behind,” Kun’rele snapped, his eyes narrowed dangerously. Once more, Corso is hit by how alien this expression and emotion was on his captain. So often was he used to his carefree attitude that he did not know what to think of this version of his captain. “Much less to the likes of you.” 

“How sweet,” Cilloway said, tilting his head to the side, snorting with amusement. “Too bad you're not getting away with either of my slaves. And too bad you won't be getting away at all. This is where you die, smuggler.”

That's when Kun’rele smirks, even as the pirates raise their weapons, preparing to fire. Corso watches as his captain grabs a detonator, just as Risha slams a button for their ship door to open, and he presses it, causing a loud explosion to sound just beyond the opposite door. Corso watches with pleasure as the pirate’s eyes widen, before hes dragged along with the rest of his crew back onto their ship. Before any of the pirates could react, Risha slams the door shut and takes his weight with the help of Redshan. Kun’rele shoots him a look of regret before rushing to the controls. 

“Crazy plan, blowing up their ship,” Redshan said, impressed. He watches Kun’rele take the controls, Lady Las’ere helping co-pilot. By the time the pirates are attempting to break down the door, they're already detached and flying away, safe. 

“You see where I get my ideas?” Corso asked him with a grin, and Risha rolls her eyes. 

“Come on, Corso, you must be exhausted,” Risha said, leading him towards the medbay. As she lays him out on one of the beds, she asks, “And I don't think I caught your name?”

He drifts off as they trade formalities, too tired to stay awake, knowing he was home and safe. 

Waking again, he was afraid he would be back on the pirate’s ship. But, opening his eyes, he is greeted by the familiar medbay room, Redshan typing away on a nearby computer. He sits up, and instantly notices a lightness to his neck. The collar was off. He leans forward, tears caught in the corners of his eyes. He was free again, home, and safe. But it was strange to find a lack of crewmates. 

“Where is everyone else?” Corso inquired, his voice cracking midway through his sentence. The Togruta turns, surprised to find him awake. 

“Oh. I wasn't expecting to wake for some time,” Redshan said honestly, and he too was free of the collar. He motions towards the door, smiling. “They are outside, dropping off Lady Las’ere as we speak.” 

Ah. They'd made it to Tatooine. He nods to the Togruta before pushing to his feet, quickly walking from the ship and out onto the bright sunlit sandy world. He shades his eyes with his uninjured hand, happy to find that his broken hand didn't ache as much. He could even wiggle the tips of his fingers! Though, obviously, it would take a while longer to heal. He was okay with that. He was safe and home. 

He spots Kun'rele with Lady Las’ere and another young woman- a human- talking nearby. One of Count Bane’s species is also with them, and they are locked in a conversation. They don't even notice his approach until he is standing directly beside Kun’rele, who jumps at his sudden arrival. 

Lady Las’ere grins at him, and he notices she is holding hands with the human woman. The human woman has a dark tan, most likely from living on this harsh world, and sand beaten features. Nevertheless, she is still gorgeous, sporting a kind smile, short, black hair and dark brown eyes. She nods to Corso, even as Kun’rele turns a concerned expression on him. 

“Corso! Are you alright? Should you really be out of bed? I thought Redshan was watching you- are okay-” now, Kun’rele could continue rambling nonstop if Corso didn't say anything. Luckily for everyone else there, Corso was feeling generous. He grins, and places a daring hand on Kun’rele’s shoulder, having never been the one to engage physical contact before. Kun’rele stops mid breath, eyes darting to the hand on his shoulder. 

“I'll be okay to see the wonderful Lady Las’ere off, Captain,” Corso said teasingly. “I do believe we were both supposed to see this job finished, after all.”

The alien species he didn't know the name of made a sound similar to laughter, before saying something. Lady Las’ere nods, featuring at Corso. “Oh yes, Father. This is the one that saved my life from the pirates,” she said, and the human woman's eyes widen. 

“You’re the one that saved my fiancé's life?” the woman asked, and Corso’s eyes widen as well. Lady Las’ere was engaged? But she'd been hitting on and flirting with Kun'rele the entire time… and then it all made sense. She'd been acting. Just as she'd pretended to be defenseless, she'd pretended to be interested in Kun'rele. It was a test, as part of the job of transporting her, that they wouldn't take advantage of her and her “weakness”. He has to hand it to the Count Bane, that was a genius idea to find out who is trustworthy. The woman grabs his undamaged hand, shaking it wildly. “Thank you thank you! I'm Freja, and I owe you so much for saving her!”

Corso chuckles nervously. “Well, she saved me back, so, she already repaid me,” he said sheepishly. “And the name’s Corso. It's really no problem.” 

Freja only continues to shake his hand, looking as though she wanted to praise the ground he walked on, and Lady Las’ere rolls her eyes, tugging her back by the hand she was still holding. “I wanted to thank you, so it's good you woke up before we parted ways. And I'm sure my father would like to as well,” she said. 

Kun’rele nods, smiling warmly down at Corso. “Look at that, Corso, you got some fans,” he teased, gently nudging Corso’s shoulder. He then points to the unidentifiable alien, “Oh, and, that's Count Dribol. He is Count Bane’s husband.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Count,” Corso said with a respectful dip of the head. The Count begins to speak rapidly, before stepping forward and reaching out with one of his large hands, holding something out towards Corso in offering. When he opens his hands to accept whatever it was, the Count drops a brand new gun in his hands. His eyes widen and he grins brightly. “Thank you so much, Count!”

“He says that the pleasure is all his, and that he deeply thanks you for rescuing me,” Lady Las’ere said in translation for the Count, nodding to him. “And that if either of you ever need anything from him, that you need only contact him.” She then steps forward to hug both of them tightly, and throws Corso a knowing look. A knowing look about what, he wasn't sure, until she said, “It was nice to meet both of you, and to travel with you. And Corso, I do believe you have some things to tell your captain, once you get the time.” And, with a wink, she walks off with the Count and her fiancé in tow. 

Corso’s face heats up as soon as they're away, and Kun’rele looks down at him with a question in his eyes. Well. He might as well say it now. It seemed to be the perfect time to. He draws in a deep breath, his heart rate suddenly kicking up in speed, and he feels faint, like he was about to fall unconscious again. But not yet. Not until he finally admits the feelings he finally knows he has for his captain. 

So, with the twin suns Tatooine as their witness, Corso confesses to Kun’rele. And Kun’rele, well, he responds in his very own fashion. 

By kissing him. 

He thinks things turned out better than he could have thought.

**Author's Note:**

> 😭😭😭


End file.
